Part 52 (1/2)

”All is well, Signor. It remains to get our merchandise ash.o.r.e.”

Landon became aware of a blue speck of light in the darkness--a speck which wavered, grew to a suddenly unexpected point of brightness and disappeared. So quickly did it come and go, so evanescent was its effect, that none but those who searched for it would have been likely to give its appearance a second thought. It might have been caused by the pa.s.sing of a candle behind one of the many panes of frosted gla.s.s which disfigure Italian villas in _villeggiatura_.

Luigi gave an order. The two deck hands clutched the halliards. The sail was lowered. A moment later the anchor set the ripples herding towards the sh.o.r.e as it plunged into the calm below the jetty. Landon and his companion descended to the cabin.

Stretched on a bunk was Miller, sleeping the sleep of the justly tired.

He roused himself at their touch and sat up. He looked about him meditatively.

”The wind has dropped, absolutely?” he said. ”Since when?”

”Half an hour ago. We are in port,” said Landon. ”We are ready to land, when you will.”

The gray man smoothed the creases in his gray coat.

”When _I_ will?” he repeated. ”I am a prisoner--the captive of your bow and spear.” He smiled with sombre sarcasm.

”That position is to be maintained?” asked Landon.

”Naturally. Your cousin may make my continued residence in Gibraltar well-nigh impossible, otherwise.”

”My cousin?” Landon repeated the words with a certain doubtfulness. ”He is my cousin,” he said slowly, ”and we sha'n't break one of his blood except in one way. It's the girl, remember, that is our strong suit.

There's to be no bleating about that. To win, the trick has to be taken with her alone.”

Miller nodded woodenly.

”If I had the inclination to interfere, I have not the power,” he said.

”Do you forget that I am a prisoner, like herself?”

”Yes,” said Landon, and there was more than doubt in his expression this time, there was suspicion. ”I forget it all the time. I want your a.s.surance that _you_ won't!”

Miller made a gesture of a.s.sent.

”Let's get on,” he said. ”I understand that it's within a couple of hours of dawn.”

For an instant Landon hesitated. Then, with Luigi at his heels, he entered the lazaret. Neither of them spoke. They bent and lifted Aylmer methodically, holding him by his shoulders and his lashed ankles. They bore him on deck. They gagged him with the cork float of a fis.h.i.+ng-net and left him, stark and motionless as a log. They turned back to the cabin, and a minute later placed Claire Van Arlen beside him, as helpless as himself.

The dingy--a new one, picked up in the island--was lowered. The prisoners were thrust beneath the seats. A deck hand and Muhammed took their places at the oars. Luigi steered; the child, half asleep and wrapped in a blanket, drowsed at his feet. Miller and Landon sat on the thwarts.

The two rowers dipped their oars without splas.h.i.+ng in long, slow strokes. The thole-pins were m.u.f.fled with rags. The boat stole along in the shadow of the jetty into the darkness which hid the port. It was noiseless, ghost-like, this entry into the little haven. To the two dumb prisoners who lay along the bottom of the boat it was ominous of hope entirely lost.

They stifled under the cloaks which hid them; the perspiration dripped from the rowers, despite the unhurried nature of their work. The weight of a dozen atmospheres seemed to have replaced the exhilarating breath which Sicily flings seaward from her sun-brimmed sh.o.r.es. Luigi, at the helm, gasped and pa.s.sed his hand across his eyes.

”Thunder in December! Not natural, Signor, but that is what we must expect. I suffocate. _Per Dio!_ The bay is an oven.”

He let the prow nose in towards the jetty. Moored boats began to appear dimly, right and left of them. The lamplight from the Marina showed an empty quay. Luigi steered for the shadow cast by a shed, and took the ground silently on a strand of mud and garbage.

The deck hand drew in his oar and skipped nimbly ash.o.r.e. Muhammed followed him. They both laid their hands upon the painter. They bent their backs to haul.

Two shadows appeared right and left of them, shadows which seemed to have detached themselves from the framework of the shed. Something clicked. A yellow beam flared out, full on Luigi's face.